


When Candy Met Luci

by mrs_d



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Candy's side of the story, Dialogue Heavy, Episode: s02e14 Candy Morningstar, Episode: s03e06 Vegas with some Radish, F/M, Humor, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:54:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23479531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_d/pseuds/mrs_d
Summary: No doubt about it, the dark-haired stranger she’d tried to rob tonight was a weird dude, and, apparently, he needed a beard.
Relationships: Candy Morningstar/Lucifer Morningstar, Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 12
Kudos: 83





	When Candy Met Luci

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing Lucifer fic, but if ever there was a time to take a chance, this is it. Keep well, friends -- stay home, save lives (read fanfic) <3
> 
> Also, if you don't know what Candy means by "beard", Wikipedia explains it [here](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beard_\(companion\)).

No doubt about it, the dark-haired stranger she’d tried to rob tonight was a weird dude. For starters, his name — his actual name, as in the thing on his driver’s license — was Lucifer Morningstar. 

“Like the Devil,” she said, while he put the card back in his newly recovered wallet, which was still empty, since he’d insisted she keep the cash.

“Exactly,” said Lucifer, with a flash of that perfect smile. 

“Huh,” Candy replied, but then she shrugged. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Lucifer repeated. “Usually I get a bit more than that.”

“Honestly, I’ve had a long day,” Candy told him. “I just want to drink wine, eat ice cream, and maybe take a bubble bath.”

“Well, that sounds lovely,” Lucifer said briskly. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

For reasons that weren’t quite clear to her, Candy stood up and stopped him. “You don’t have to,” she said. “You can stay.”

“I’m sure you don’t want me hanging about,” Lucifer replied, adjusting his cufflinks in some minute way.

“You got anywhere else to be?” Candy asked, feeling oddly brave.

Lucifer hesitated. For a second, he looked as sad as he had when he’d been seated at the bar earlier, before she’d picked his pockets. 

“No,” he said, and then he smiled, wide and disarming. “No, I suppose I don’t.”

“Then come on,” Candy said. 

Fifteen minutes later, they were seated in the living room with steaming plates of leftover Chinese food and a bottle of wine on the coffee table between them. Candy had a fleece blanket over her legs, because her apartment was always cold, and Lucifer, for some reason, had wrapped himself up in her pink Snuggie. 

She watched him eat, wondering who this man was and how he’d come to be here. Among other weird things — his name, his nonchalance about being robbed, his choice to drape a Snuggie over that expensive suit — he manipulated chopsticks like he was born holding them. 

“What?” he asked finally, catching her staring.

“Nothing,” said Candy quickly. “It’s just... you don’t seem drunk.”

“I’m not,” Lucifer answered, matter of fact. “Why would you think that?”

“Well, it’s just—” Candy stopped, felt her cheeks heat. She’d stolen from him and tried to fool him with fake tears less than an hour ago, and all seemed forgiven, but it was still embarrassing. “Judd, he gave me the signal, earlier, that you were, uh. That you’d had—”

“Quite a lot?” Lucifer guessed. “I had.”

“Right, so—”

“You and Judd, you do this often, do you?” Lucifer asked. “Pick an easy mark, rob him blind?”

“Uh,” Candy faltered, but Lucifer was smiling again. 

“Oh, I’m not judging,” he said, and damned if she didn’t believe him. “I told you, I don’t care about the money. In fact, I admire your technique, it’s very crafty. And effective — not many people can fool the Devil after all.”

Candy opened her mouth to ask, but then she decided against it. 

“It’ll take a lot more than that to get me drunk,” he added, nodding towards the bottle of wine that was nearly empty. “In case you were thinking of trying again.”

“I’m sorry,” Candy blurted, even though she could tell he was teasing. 

Lucifer waved his chopsticks like he was shooing her apology out of the air between them. “You said that already.”

“I know,” said Candy. “You really did look unhappy, though. I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known...”

She realized what she was about to say and cut herself off, but Lucifer was watching her with those dark, shrewd eyes. 

“If you’d known what?” he asked, in the kind of tone that she couldn’t ignore. She sighed down at her noodles.

“If I’d known how miserable you were,” she finished quietly.

She chanced a look up, and found that he was the one staring now. She didn’t know how to take that, so she reached for the bottle and drained the last bit of it into his glass. 

“Please tell me you have more wine,” Lucifer said, like it was a joke that he wasn’t sure would land.

Candy nodded. “I’ve got plenty. But don’t feel obliged to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Lucifer lifted his glass and emptied it in one go. “Actually, I think I do.”

And so the whole story came out — and _coming out_ seemed like a very good way to describe it. 

Not that he said so directly, of course. In fact, she could tell there was a lot he wasn’t telling her, about the woman he cared about, and how his parents thought he was destined to be with her — or something like that. Candy had just opened the second bottle, and Lucifer had said to hell with drinking it out of a glass, so she was kind of distracted and missed that part. 

But she got the gist: a woman Lucifer obviously trusted, someone he would probably call his best friend, had feelings for him that he just didn’t know what to do with. They’d shared one kiss, and it had felt right at first, but now he wasn’t sure if he only felt that because he thought he was supposed to, because everyone — mainly his parents, what a fucked-up family — wanted him to. 

And most importantly, he didn’t want to hurt his friend.

“It’s difficult to explain,” he said finally. “I just want to do right by her.”

Candy decided he needed the ice cream more than she did. She passed it over, taking the wine in exchange, and nudged him — “Do you ever ask yourself, how the hell did I end up here?” — but he still didn’t admit it outright. 

Maybe he couldn’t. Growing up with those parents, she guessed he didn’t have a lot of self-acceptance. 

She lobbed him a soft ball, with a quip about pink being a good color on him.

He didn’t disappoint, ticking another box on the list of assumptions she had going in her head, but the conversation turned again. And then he gave her a soft look, and then— and then, he dropped to one knee and proposed to her. 

Candy spit out her wine. He wiped pinot grigio off his face while she laughed in disbelief.

“Is that a no?” he asked, sounding only a little wounded.

“No,” Candy wheezed, mastering her giggles with some difficulty. “No, it’s— you really think that’ll help?”

“Well, it can’t hurt,” Lucifer replied. Now he definitely sounded wounded. 

“I’m not sure that’s true,” Candy had to admit. “It’d be easier if you were just honest with the detective. And your parents.”

Lucifer scoffed, and yanked the Snuggie off his front. “Never mind,” he muttered, getting to his feet. “It was a stupid idea.”

“Hey,” Candy protested, sitting up and grabbing his hand when he passed by. He made to yank it out of her grasp, but Candy held on tight. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

Lucifer exhaled another short breath. “You didn’t.” 

Candy raised an eyebrow, calling his bluff, and he rolled his eyes. 

“Sit down,” she told him, giving his hand a squeeze. “Please?”

“Fine,” Lucifer huffed. He re-took his seat, but he left the Snuggie on the floor, and with it, the playful tender energy of the conversation they’d been having before he dropped to one knee. 

“Tell me why you think it’s a good idea we get married,” Candy said. When he didn’t answer, she went on. “I mean, I like you well enough, and you’re obviously loaded, which helps.”

Lucifer shrugged one shoulder, conceding the point carelessly, as someone who’d never had to struggle with money would. 

“But this isn’t really what you want. _I’m_ not really what you want,” Candy emphasized. “Am I?”

Lucifer didn’t reply. Candy thought carefully while she drank more wine. Eventually, she decided to just go for it. 

“Lucifer, you need explain to your parents how you feel. You need to tell them that this woman isn’t right for you. That no woman is.”

Lucifer shot her a startled look, like she might have a bomb under her blanket. Candy pressed on, albeit a little more delicately.

“I can see why you think this might work,” she admitted. “Marry another woman, get them off your back, let your partner go back to being your partner and hope that she’ll get over you. But it won’t help,” she concluded, as firmly as she dared. “Making me your beard, it’s a short-term solution, at best. At worst, it’s...” she sighed. “A really big mess.”

Lucifer blinked at her once. Twice. Three times. Finally, he said, “Candy, do you think I’m gay?”

It was impossible to tell, with his British inflection, whether he was offended, curious, or quietly, desperately asking for her help. Candy wrestled to find the right words to say. 

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” she said gently. “I used to strip. You’d be surprised how many men would come to me, or someone like me, to test it out, to— to try and prove something.”

“Right,” Lucifer said slowly.

“And, well, you said you wanted to marry me to get back at your mom,” Candy went on, even though it sounded a bit weak now that she heard it out loud. “You flat-out said I’d be bluffing.”

“I did,” he agreed. Was it a trick of the light, or was his mouth starting to curve into a smirk?

“Not to mention, I led you into my bedroom and... nothing,” Candy added, hurrying to explain now. “I even gave you the old _slip into something more comfortable_ line, and you— well, you took my pink Snuggie.”

She pointed at the object in question as if it would prove her point once and for all, which was pretty stereotypical of her, now that she thought about it. 

“I see,” said Lucifer. He chuckled under his breath, and Candy relaxed. “I suppose I can understand how you’d get that impression.”

Candy nodded and drank more wine, waiting for further explanation. When it didn’t come, she asked, “So, if you’re not gay, how would marrying me get back at your parents?”

Lucifer was silent for one more moment, then he leaned forward. “Well you see, if I come back from Vegas with a stripper on my arm—”

“Former,” Candy corrected him. “And exotic dancer. Stripper is pejorative.”

“Right, terribly sorry,” Lucifer said quickly. “My point is, if I return to Los Angeles married to you, and if you’re willing to play the part of the ditzy wife, my mum will let her guard down. She won’t be able to help herself, she’s always been condescending towards humans to begin with.”

“Okay,” said Candy, deciding to let that last remark go without comment. “And if your mother lets her guard down...?”

“Why, then I’ll know what she’s plotting,” Lucifer said with a grin, like it was just that simple. “You know, it’s true, what they say — knowing really is half the battle.”

“Uh huh,” said Candy slowly. “But how does your detective friend fit into this grand scheme of yours? Disappearing and coming back married, you might— it’ll break her heart,” Candy concluded.

For a moment, Candy saw Lucifer’s vulnerability on full display again. His eyes dropped to the floor, his lips turned downward in a look that seemed, even to her, who’d just met him tonight, uncharacteristically serious.

“Safer that way,” he muttered, and then he straightened his shoulders and drew in a breath. “So,” he said, his smile lighting up his face again. “Shall we find an all-night chapel, or would you rather wait until the morning?”

Candy lifted the bottle to her lips again, stalling for time. No doubt about it, he was a weird dude. But he was handsome, and he was rich, and, no matter his sexuality, he didn’t seem interested in having sex with her. She felt oddly safe around him, and like he said, they did have a lot in common. There were worse people she could marry on a whim, and worse reasons she could do it.

“You’ll pay off my debt?” she asked, though, just to be sure.

“A deal is a deal,” Lucifer replied solemnly. “You have my word.”

“All right.” Candy stood up and tossed aside the blanket that was on her lap. “Then let’s go right now,” she said, before she could change her mind. “What the hell, right?”

Lucifer’s grin widened. He took her hands in his and got to his feet. “What the hell, indeed.”

**Author's Note:**

> Stay home, save lives! Come find me on [Tumblr](http://mrsd-writes.tumblr.com), [Twitter](https://twitter.com/mrsd_writes), and [Dreamwidth](https://mrs-d.dreamwidth.org/) if you want to hang out on the Internet.


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